


Behind a Wall of Glass, In Shade

by Philipa_Moss



Series: The Sun Never Sets on the Laundrette Empire [3]
Category: My Beautiful Laundrette (1985)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-17
Updated: 2011-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-18 05:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philipa_Moss/pseuds/Philipa_Moss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a trip is planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind a Wall of Glass, In Shade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kinetikatrue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinetikatrue/gifts).



Tania preferred to e-mail, and Omar was fine with that. Both of them had inherited a certain thrifty (Johnny called it tight-arsed) quality from their parents, and neither of them were willing to contemplate the cost of long-distance calls. Skype was an option, but Tania couldn’t be bothered to go out and buy a webcam to attach to the top of her aging PC. Therefore, on the morning after he sent her word of his impending visit to Canada, Omar opened up his computer to find a heavily italicized missive awaiting him.

Omar,

You complete and utter _bastard_. I haven’t heard a _word_ from you in six months and all of a sudden you write to say that you are _coming to visit_? What if I had been busy? What if I had had other houseguests?

I can practically _hear_ that smirk. And you, Johnny, if you’re egging him on, I expect a _full_ apology when you arrive. I do hope you are both coming; I don’t think I could handle either of you without the other as a mediating influence.

(A lie. I believe I could tolerate Johnny by himself. Asad is lovely and I’m sure Omar has his charms, but what do you say, Johnny? Shall we throw caution to the wind and become each other’s exception?)

Mediating influence. You like that? Amirah is studying English literature at McGill. Her e-mails home sound like a lawyer wrote them. She would make an excellent law student, but part of me is still hoping she will take her degree and do something completely impractical. I can already feel her grandfather turning over in his grave. _Delicious_.

Your niece misses you. I will make sure she comes home for some of the time you are here. Of course I don’t have houseguests. Of course I don’t have plans. You are obnoxiously right as usual, as much as it pains me to admit it. I’ll put clean sheets on the foldout.

And _what_ is all this you say about a new branch in Manchester? And taking on an office boy? Is this some sort of subculture reference I cannot be expected to understand, or have you actually got a living and breathing employee looking after your finances? If the latter, I say hurrah and if you feel so inclined, bring him along as well. Perhaps we can set him up with Amirah.

Much Love, although you _do not deserve it_ ,

Tania

Johnny laughed, a huff of warm breath against his ear. Omar hadn’t even heard him get up and yet here he was, still warm from bed, leaning up against Omar’s left shoulder.

“Set Tony up with Amirah. Oh I like that very much,” Johnny chuckled, squinting at the screen. He refused to get reading glasses. He claimed he didn’t read. “As if your family needed one more unhappy wife.”

“Tania’s not unhappy,” said Omar, studiously not thinking of his mother, since Johnny obviously wasn’t.

“No,” said Johnny. “But that’s only ‘cause Asad’s on the plane more than he’s home, right? Out of sight, out of mind?”

“Tania doesn’t like having to wait on anyone hand and foot. Having a husband who’s rarely at home is perfect for her. And, besides, Asad’s not all that bad.”

Johnny huffed, and said nothing. Instead he straightened and came around the side of Omar’s chair. He rested against the table near the computer. He crossed his arms. He raised one eyebrow.

Omar smiled. He was actually rather fond of Tania’s husband, Asad, who worked for Bain & Company and who was a better cook than anyone Omar knew. Johnny claimed Asad was a snob. Omar tried to tell him it was nonsense, but Johnny just shrugged and said it didn’t bother him but that’s the way it was.

“What if we did?” wondered Omar, absently taking one of Johnny’s hands in his.

“What if we what? Set them up?” Johnny squeezed his hand. “Are you bloody stupid?”

“No, no, of course not,” said Omar. “What if we brought him to Canada with us?”

Johnny eyed him up. “Why?”

“It might be nice,” said Omar, “to get him out of that office for a change. Introducing him to Asad might stimulate his ambitions a bit.”

“There are plenty of businessmen in London,” began Johnny.

“I thought you liked him.”

“I do,” said Johnny. “I do. He’s a good kid.” He paused, and shifted against the table, wincing a bit as he tried to find a comfortable position. Last night can’t have been good for his back, Omar mused, and his self-satisfaction almost drowned out Johnny’s “Want to know what I think?”

Omar forced himself to concentrate. “Am I going to like it?”

Johnny grinned sideways, in that way he had. The way that made Omar want to lick the look right off his face. “Probably not.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“London’s bursting with inspirational business blokes for Tony to model himself after. Probably knows plenty from before. What you want in Canada’s family and Tony isn’t that.”

Omar shook his head. “He likes you best, and you think he’s just an employee.”

“And you think he’s the son you never had.”

For a long time it had been Omar’s instinct, whenever Johnny was stepping too close to something, to get up and leave, to regain control of the conversation by putting distance between them. But he could learn, and years and experience had taught him that sometimes it was better to stay put. Instead: “Bollocks,” he said.

There was a long pause, until finally, “You’d know best,” said Johnny placidly, getting up and moving away towards the kitchen.

“I’m writing back to Tania,” Omar called after him, “to her that we’re bringing Tony.”

“Suit yourself.”

"If he is available of course."

"He will be," Johnny called back from the kitchen, and then muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "He's got nothing better to do."

Dear Tania (Omar wrote),

We will see you in a week’s time. I have attached our itinerary Heathrow-Toronto Pearson and Pearson-Heathrow. I have been told that my mobile will work in Canada, but if for some reason it does not you should use our flight number to track us.

We will bring Tony.

I look forward to seeing Amirah, and Asad, and, of course, you,

Omar

**Author's Note:**

> This installment is mostly about setting up the next, but the good news is that it should be along quite soon, thanks to a newly freed-up schedule and the promise of Tania-Tony conversations.
> 
> Title from "Family Week at Oracle Ranch" by James Merrill


End file.
